


The Reconnection

by shinealightrose



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: M/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/pseuds/shinealightrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been twenty years since they last spoke, since Jinwoo broke Seunghoon’s heart. Fate has given them another chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reconnection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Winner Exchange](http://winnerexchange.livejournal.com/)

When Jinwoo sees him from across the room, there’s no jolt in his heart. Just a quiet stillness, a pause, a veil that’s gently lowered across the scene blurring out everyone and everything except for one. Seunghoon. Lee Seunghoon. Major Lee Seunghoon, of the 4th squadron, Army division.  
  
_Lee Seunghoon,_ the boy Jinwoo wooed and bedded, flirted and dated, and then so cruelly rejected twenty years ago, is here. And he’s no longer a boy.  
  
Their eyes catch and Jinwoo immediately looks away. He fidgets with his tie as he sits down beside the ambassador’s secretary, whose crony he is. His foot nudges at the briefcase beside his chair, an unnecessary scrape against the floor. Jinwoo’s boss glares at him briefly across the table.  
  
The room has quieted. It’s a diplomatic charity dinner between two nations, one war-torn, the other its military and now hopefully, diplomatic champions. A remote corner of the world, of all the places, and Jinwoo just has to meet Seunghoon again, like this.  
  
He knows he went into the army after Jinwoo left. He didn’t know he stayed in so long. But Jinwoo is an exceptional at reading insignia, and that’s a major’s badge. Strictly speaking, Seunghoon is ranked higher than Jinwoo’s comparable position with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.  
  
And already, that makes today’s meeting more different than Jinwoo could have possibly imagined.  
  
Who knew they’d meet again. Who knew it would be like this, in a remote corner of the world, so different than the one in which they’d known each other before. His heart pounds, if only because, by the turn of his head, Seunghoon is almost definitely looking his way.  
  
He hasn’t even looked away.  
  
Jinwoo clears his throat, earning another disapproving glance from his superior. They’re supposed to be listening to the speaker give a polite discourse on the future of these two nations, a lengthy over-dramatic account of the ways they can be of help to one another. It’s the nice, diplomatic way of showing condescension towards this poor little country, and Jinwoo used to be better at stomaching such bull shit.  
  
But not with Seunghoon’s eyes on him.  
  
He clears his throat again, purposefully. Then he coughs. He catches his boss’s eye for permission and gets a quick, dismissive wave. Moments later, beating his chest just for show and coughing some more, he pushes back his chair and exits the room.  
  
Out the door, past the security personnel, past even the nearest bathroom at the end of the hall, Jinwoo finds open air in a small balconied alcove overlooking the bay.  
  
_“You’re leaving me? Just like that?”_ Seunghoon’s voice echoes from a time warp twenty years gone.  
  
_“Yes,”_ Jinwoo had quipped.  
  
_“Why? What happened? Is it your parents? Did they find out? Did I do something wrong?”_  
  
Seunghoon had sounded so wounded, so confused. Heartbroken. Jinwoo pretended like he felt nothing. He couldn’t lie to himself and say this wasn’t a hard decision, that he was ripping his heart from his body, that his soul was tearing in two. It was the pragmatic thing to do, breaking up with Seunghoon, from a relationship where Jinwoo couldn’t predict anything good happening. It was a burden, a terrible inconvenience. He’d told himself that over and over the night before, when he planned this out.  
  
_“It’s just… I’m not feeling this anymore. Sorry. I think we should go our own way.”_  
  
Seunghoon had cried, his eyes turning a brilliant shade of red. Then Jinwoo had turned away and never looked back.  
  
_Our own way._  Twenty years later, he’s only now seeing how their paths have manifested. Here, today. He’s under no illusions that his exit from the banquet hall went unnoticed. A part of him hopes Seunghoon won’t have noticed, won’t follow him, or confront him. It would be easier that way. Jinwoo could go along the way he’s always gone along, lacking regrets.  
  
Or not. There are some regrets… or maybe, just one.  
  
“Jinwoo?”  
  
Jinwoo closes his eyes for one brief second, turned away and for now hidden from view from the voice approaching behind. Fingernails cutting into his palms, he clenches his fists. He doesn’t turn around.  
  
“Kim Jinwoo. It really is you.”  
  
It’s so matter-of-fact. As if Seunghoon wasn’t harboring any suspicions. He knew exactly who he would find when he stepped into the balcony today. Jinwoo pastes a smile onto his face and calmly turns around.  
  
“Seunghoon.”  
  
Gone is that young man he knew so many years ago. With the cheap sunglasses and the ratty snapbacks, clothes that barely fit him. The man standing before Jinwoo now is direct, and sharp. He stands militarily straight, arms by his side, chin up. There’s no smile, just a gaze of observation. He looks so mature, Jinwoo believes a side-by-side comparison would leave him—Jinwoo—the more wanting. He itches to adjust his tie. Somehow, he manages to refrain.  
  
“It’s been a long time,” says Jinwoo, voice mercifully steady.  
  
“It has. Must be… what…”  
  
“Twenty years?”  
  
The expression on Seunghoon’s face softens. It’s almost a smile. “Has it really been that long?”  
  
“You’re looking good,” Jinwoo says to circumvent the question.  
  
For a moment, Seunghoon’s eyes sweep over his body, head to toe, and no way is Jinwoo imagining that that glance isn’t appraising him.  
  
“So you do.”  
  
Jinwoo looks aside, scoffing as he does. “Don’t…”  
  
Don’t what? Try to be flattering? That’s Jinwoo’s job. He doesn’t want to hear it from someone he once loved.  
  
Cautiously, Seunghoon takes two steps forward. All the hairs on Jinwoo’s arms are standing on end, as if the man’s mere physical presence, after all these long years, are enough to ignite him.  
  
God, they were so young. Back then. Seunghoon was always laughing, carefree and happy. Jinwoo envied his personality. He’d come from a strict family background, structured, demure. Seunghoon was that breath of fresh air Jinwoo had never experienced before. He had less money, yes. He had no class, that was arguable. He had no future, that’s what Jinwoo’s parents said. A boy with no other directive than to enter the army wasn’t someone Jinwoo was supposed to be with. And on top of that, he was a man. Certain things could be overlooked, like Jinwoo’s college dalliance with a member of the same sex, but for life? _“Jinwoo, it’s time you stopped playing games and entered the real world.”_  
  
His father died three years ago. Jinwoo’s mother is a shadow of the woman she had been. All these years Jinwoo put into pleasing his parents, entering the civil service, toadying up to bigshot diplomats his parents introduced him to, and all for what? Just to be assigned this dead end job on the other side of the planet, with almost no personal merits to speak of.  
  
Alright, so maybe he never felt the drive to really work for it…  
  
That doesn’t change the fact that—  
  
“Twenty years is a long time. Am I not allowed to say you still look good?”  
  
Seunghoon leans against the rail overlooking the bay. Jinwoo, after a moment’s pause, turns around and leans against it too. He leaves enough space between them so they aren’t in danger of touching. Jinwoo doesn’t know what he’ll do if Seunghoon tries to touch him now.  
  
He can’t lie and say he’s thought about Seunghoon every day for the last twenty years. Some things, a person really does get over. Eventually. It was easy to listen to his parents and tell himself over and over at night that his boyish crush was just that, a crush to be gotten over. A fling. Temporary. Non-permanent, and definitely not everlasting.  
  
Distance does that to people—makes them forget.  
  
“Jinwoo?” Seunghoon coaxes, face still turned towards the sea.  
  
Jinwoo refuses to answer him. He shrugs, knowing full well he’s putting this off. So much water under the bridge, and now he lets it continue flowing right on by.  
  
“I guess we can start off with simpler questions,” says Seunghoon. “Are you married?”  
  
Again, Jinwoo snorts. This time, however, it’s funnier. “Do I look like I have the time to be married?” He stretches out his fingers over the top of the rail, as if to draw Seunghoon’s glance to his bare fingers.  
  
Seunghoon laughs softly. “Well, some people in your field do find the time. I never married.”  
  
The two statements cling together, an unnecessary tie between Seunghoon’s state of mind and marital status.”  
  
“You always did say you wouldn’t get married,” Jinwoo adds.  
  
“Yes. Well, nothing much has changed. Still illegal anyways.”  
  
Jinwoo allows himself a sideways glance. Seunghoon’s smoldering gaze is already there. Resisting the urge to flinch, he doesn’t look away.  
  
“Partner?”  
  
“Not for a while. Hard to keep one anyways, when you’re in the military and under so much scrutiny.” He shifts his head sideways to the left and scratches his chin. Jinwoo’s eyes are drawn to the underside of his jaw, honestly shocked at Seunghoon’s frank emission.  
  
“I didn’t think you’d go career military.” Jinwoo relaxes his gaze, stares back at the sea.  
  
“I had no better plans. Seemed I was suited for it. And it pays well. I’m thinking about retiring soon though.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s about time anyways.”  
  
So many questions flood Jinwoo’s brain. Questions that before today, before one hour ago today, he would never have thought of. Like, why? Why does Seunghoon feel it’s time to retire now? What has his life been like for the last twenty years? Does he hate Jinwoo for what he did, leaving him like that so long ago? He doesn’t act with bitterness now. Does that mean that he too has pushed aside his memories of Jinwoo? How long did it take to do that? Was it quick, did he cry, was he angry?  
  
Does Jinwoo even have the right to ask those questions now?  
  
“What about you?” Seunghoon asks, and Jinwoo jumps, startled.  
  
“What about me, what?”  
  
Astonishingly, Seunghoon laughs. It’s a deep rumble from the depths of his chest. His mouth doesn’t move as much as when he was younger, but the edge of his lips are still pulled out into an open half-smile. His eyes sparkle and it’s genuine, that mirth. With his head dropped to to his chest, he leans against the balcony and hangs over, staring right at the ground below.  
  
“It seems like we’re bad at this,” he admits.  
  
“Bad at what?”  
  
“Reconnecting.”  
  
Jinwoo inhales slowly, this time so as not to gasp like an idiot. “Is that what we’re doing?” he asks softly. “Reconnecting?”  
  
He too leans more against the rail, staring beneath him as if it has the answers he needs. Maybe, if he and Seunghoon share the same physical vision, they’ll understand each other as well. But the view down is just of a driveway and some trees and lines of vehicles, military and diplomatic. There’s nothing of their past down there. It’s all up here with them.  
  
“Did you ever really think we’d see each other again?” Seunghoon asks, still not looking directly at Jinwoo.  
  
“At a place like this? Never.”  
  
Seunghoon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It seems Jinwoo isn’t the only one here with unspoken questions.  
  
Slowly, Seunghoon chuckles. Then he quiets and looks to the side. Jinwoo meets his eyes with all the trepidation and fear he hasn’t felt in years.  
  
“Must be fate, huh?”  
  
_‘Must be fate! Jinwoo, come on. You’re here and I’m here. All our friends ditched us. Guess that means we’re meant to be!’_ Seunghoon’s twenty-year old laughter was always raucous, always riotous.  
  
Jinwoo snorted.  _‘I don’t believe in fate.’_  
  
‘So? Believe in chances then?’  
  
‘I don’t wanna.’  
  
‘You’re a wimp and a coward, Jinwoo. Live a little, why don’t you?’  
  
And Jinwoo had sighed.  
  
Just like he sighs now, and with a smile coming unbidden to his lips says, “I don’t believe in fate…”  
  
“But?” Seunghoon prompts. His smile is growing broad.  
  
“But…” Jinwoo laughs.  
  
He doesn’t have to finish that statement. The two of them grow silent, staring back out at the sea. All the sights and all the smells, their entire circumstances of the present become insular as it swirls around them. Jinwoo sets his sights on a seabird flying above the beach. Seunghoon could be looking at something else. The hesitant smiles have remained on each of their faces.  
  
Somehow, after some time, Jinwoo feels a weight pressing against his shoulder, Seunghoon’s body leaning slightly against his.  
  
Jinwoo’s grin grows wider even as his heart thumps louder. Panic, fear, hesitation? What are these things he’s feeling and do they even matter right now in the face of second chances?  
  
He’s going to believe they don’t.


End file.
